Page 65 of Tortured Hearts
“Fine.” I turn halfway around when I feel him palm the back of my neck, his fingers sinking deep into my skin as he spins me toward him and slams his mouth onto mine. The harder I try not to respond, the more insistent he becomes until I break…
Fully, completely, irrevocably.
The whimper he coaxes out shatters as he walks me backward and presses me against the wall. I’m lost, drowning as he draws me into his fiery control, his hard cock pressing against me. The logical part of me says to pump the brakes and see how this plays out … that letting him inside me twice while being held captive is already at the short end of sanity.
But I’m tired of darkness.
I’m tired of silence.
The only time I’m not drowning inside my head is when we’re together.
Gianni spilled blood for me. His demons are at the surface, his body fighting to keep them contained. I open my eyes and take in the hard set of his jaw and taut corded muscles in his neck. He’s been pushed to his limit, a killer on the verge of a violent explosion. The least I could do is push him over the edge.
I sink to my knees, holding his darkening stare as I reachfor the button on his jeans.
His hand clamps around my wrist, stilling it. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing at the moment.”
“I’m serious, Becca. The destruction running through my veins hasn’t calmed.” He stares down at me, his clenched teeth causing a vein in his neck to throb. “There’s no line between sex and violence for me right now.”
I consider his words … then dare them.
“In this room, I trusted you to bring me back from the edge. It’s your turn to trust me.”
His grip loosens. It’s not a concession. Gianni is at war with himself, but I don’t give him time to fire another shot. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, I reach inside his boxers and pull out his thick cock. This won’t take much effort. He’s already hard, pre-cum beading on his swollen tip.
“Becca, I…Fuuuuck!” His palm slams against the wall as I take him as deeply in my mouth as I can, while fisting him at the root.
Three seconds in, I’m gagging.
Christ, I forgot how big he is.
But Gianni has already slipped behind the curtain. His demons are front and center and hungry for blood. “Finish what you started, Dr. Brennan,” he grits out, his hand winding around my hair, holding my head in place as he pistons his hips. “Make me come.”
His roughness and cold words should scare me, but they don’t.
Instead, I tighten my suction and relax my throat, forcing him deeper. I pump him with my hand, determined to keep my word and force the man I care about back to the surface.
Above me, Gianni’s palm curls into a fist, and he pounds it over and over against the wall. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” I risk a glance upand find his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn tightly together, the line between them sinking deeper as I hollow my cheeks and flatten my tongue.
The power he returned hours ago triples.I’mdoing this to him.I’mbringing the mafia heir to his knees. My eyes water, and my jaw aches, but I don’t stop.
Not when he thrusts frantically into my mouth.
Not when my lungs scream for air.
“Goddamn it,” he rasps. “I’m coming, and you’re going to swallow it all. Do you hear me, Becca? Every … fucking … drop.”
His body jerks, a shudder tearing through him as he erupts down my throat. It comes hot, fast, and forceful. I try, but I can’t swallow it all, and it spills out of the corners of my mouth and dribbles down my chin.
Holy shit.
My chest burns. I need air.
Pulling away, I drag in gulps of oxygen, my blurry, watery vision slowly clearing as my pulse returns to normal. When I’m finally back on solid ground, the pressure on my hair is gone, and I open my eyes to see Gianni already dressed, his hand sliding into his pocket again.
I’m still regaining my equilibrium as he pulls out his phone and stares at the screen, his expression hardening. “I have to go.” He’s across the room before I can blink, the scent of spice and burnt pine drifting away with him.
